


I envy the wind

by MGB



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Intimacy, Music, composing on body, writing on body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 23:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3307568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MGB/pseuds/MGB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
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	I envy the wind

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** No, any and all mistakes are my own.   
> **Banner:** By me

I lay naked on the bed, skin still slightly moist from the bath I’d left just minutes ago. The open window lets small breaths of wind in to caress my body and I hear the envy catch on his breath as he nears.  
I feel the bed dip and how he crawls up behind, over me, his warm skin touching my slightly cooled off back to whisper a "How is it that you can make me envy even the wind for touching you like this?" in my ear, before lowering his lips to kiss my neck.  
He lets his weight come to rest upon me and the warmth of his body and the steady rise and fall of his breath becomes mine.  
Fingers running down my sides, imitating and trying to make my skin forget all about the wind, catch my attention and I feel how his caress transforms to the gentle lovemaking of ivory and ebony keys only he can see there.  
Lifting himself up to straddle me instead, my skin feels the loss of his warmth, aching for its return, but settling at the feather light touches of his fingers continuing their melody on my skin.  
A slight shift of weight, a heartbeat’s miss of breath and I know the question in his mind has been silently answered.  
One breath, two…  
The scent of ink makes me smile as I feel his one hand continue to stroke the invisible keys of a piano as the hairs of the ink dipped brush comes in contact with my skin, gently guided by his other hand. Not knowing the lyrics forming on my skin, I still hear, feel the song inside me, accented by caresses of lips and the gentle rock of hips.  
As the brush stills the quiet melody starts anew and the words now adorning my back pass his lips, reverence in his voice as that of a prayer and I lay there humbled beyond words to call him mine.


End file.
